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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26767315">Hospitals</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_AnotherFangirl/pseuds/Just_AnotherFangirl'>Just_AnotherFangirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cute, Flirting, Fluff, Hospital, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Mild Angst, Pre-Banana, Pre-Canon, i think I’m funny, ish, unbetaed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:21:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,344</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26767315</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_AnotherFangirl/pseuds/Just_AnotherFangirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Curt was a bloody idiot, getting himself hurt. Now Owen was stuck in this stupid hospital, for god knows how long.<br/>(I promise it’s more lighthearted than it sounds)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Owen Carvour &amp; Agent Curt Mega, Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hospitals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you see any errors, please tell me!<br/>Thanks to @venusplease on here for reading it over</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Owen paced in the hall, wringing his hands. The bloody </span>
  <em>
    <span>idiot</span>
  </em>
  <span> had gone and gotten hurt while they were undercover, so Curt was in a civilian hospital, and he was stuck outside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me, but am I able to see Howard Whalen yet?” He said to the woman at the desk, remembering to put on his American accent halfway through the sentence. Curt always said you could tell he was British, but it seemed to fool most people. Curt always objected to any voice other than his natural one, however, so Owen supposed he would say that about any accent. After all, his Russian was flawless, and Curt constantly insulted that. Luckily, the brunette at the desk didn’t seem to notice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you family?” She barely looked up from the papers she was reading. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen racked his brain, trying to remember the cover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes. I’m his cousin, Theodore. Is he alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, he’s just fine.” The woman smiled sweetly. “He only just woke up a bit ago, but you can head in and see him. It’s the fourth room down this hall.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walked down the hallway quickly, trying to keep himself from running. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Curt?” He opened the door, coming in quietly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Owen? Took you long enough. How easy do you think it is to smuggle somebody out of a hospital? That somebody being me. We were there in Austria last fall, saw how they pulled it off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen sighed. “I’m not smuggling you out unless you are fit for activity, old man.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Already trying to get me into bed? Give a man a moment to catch his breath, you limey bastard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know perfectly well what I meant, Curt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, were you at least worried?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, old boy.” Owen bent over to look Curt in the eyes, as the other man was still seated. “What would I do without my court jester?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curt pointedly chose to ignore the second comment, preferring something that gave him a chance to tease his partner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The infallible Owen Carvour, caring. I never thought I’d see the day.” Curt teased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m currently Ted Whalen, so I am technically just staying undercover, and I’m simply concerned with how the mission would play out without you.” Owen shot back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, so you finally admit I’m the better agent?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen sighed, but Curt could see a smile in his eyes.“I’m simply trying to avoid extra work on my part.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>”Ah, so you're lazy.” Curt teased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you just get dressed so we can go? Cynthia will have your ass,- and probably mine as well, considering she regularly forgets I’m not ASS.” Owen realized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll just throw you under the bus, since we all know who the more reliable agent is.” Curt said, smirking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course we do. It’s me.” Owen said, deadpan. “Can we go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curt smirked “I still think you were just worried about me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I think we have other things to worry about right now, namely smuggling you out of a hospital, love. You are alright?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just some bruised ribs and a killer headache from the cement. What did you tell them happened?” Curt said, curious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said you tripped and fell down the stairs, like the clumsy git you are. You’re sure it’s not a concussion?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>mother</span>
  </em>
  <span>, I’m fine.” Curt rolled his eyes. “And also not clumsy, I was pushed!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well let's not argue when we know the answer, put these on,” Owen tossed Curt’s clothes at him. “And let’s go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started to walk out, but Curt tossed a hand into his shoulder as the shorter man struggled to get his pants on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you hurry up!” Owen said irritably. “I’d like to get out before Cynthia notices how long it’s been since we’ve done anything or called in with a report!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, and you aren’t even going to spare me a quick glance?” Curt teased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re on the job, Cur- Howard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O, nobody can hear us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry? My name is Theodore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curt saw Owen tensing up, sliding into full professionalism, and cursed himself for not realizing sooner. He had been working with the man for years, they had been partners for a good bit of time, so he knew Owen, and could tell when something was up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ted.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Curt said curtly, rushing out to match the taller man's pace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Owen loosened up the second they left the hospital, sparking curiosity in Curt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, a drink?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Normally, no. But you got hurt and we need more intel, so I’ll allow it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ll allow it.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Curt mocked in a terrible english accent. “Maybe I need to get injured more often, then you’ll loosen up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t, Curt. Maybe then I’d go insane with frustration slightly slower.” Owen said dryly, walking quickly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This way.” Curt grabbed Owens arm as he tried to turn to where the nearest bar was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you wanted a drink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well,” Curt smirked. “Getting a bit drunk in private means we have more freedom, if you know what I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, Curt. Have you any sense of professionalism-shit!” Owen saw something out of the corner of his eye, and almost spun around, but stopped himself just in the nick of time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Quietly, keep walking, but slow down. When we hit the next street sign, look up at it, be puzzled for a moment, then turn around. He’s behind us.” Owen whispered. The pair walked along casually, still talking quietly about something or other they’re covers had gotten up to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he even tried to tell me I was doing it wrong!” Curt exclaimed as they turned around, keeping a steady eye on their target. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blonde man tried to walk faster to pass from between them, breaking into a near-sprint once he recognized Curt and Owen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without a word, the partners began to run after him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep up, Carvour!” Curt shouted. Owen sprinted ahead of him, and gave a smug smile, but stayed focused on following the man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man was fast and dipped out of sight quickly, leaving Curt and Owen behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curt put his hands on his knees and let out some heavy breaths. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I guess we know who the better agent is now, since one of us can’t run for five minutes.” Owen smirked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curt pointed to his chest. “Bruised ribs, remember? Hurts like the devil to run. And I thought you were worried about me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen waved it off. “You’ve dealt with worse. Remember that one time you-“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t remind me.” Curt interrupted, wincing. “Can we go get that drink now?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” Owen said, concerned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Curt grunted. “You said it yourself, I’ve dealt with worse. Just sore, let’s go get drunk.”</span>
</p>
<ul>
<li><span>••</span></li>
</ul><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, the two sat together on the couch in the safe house, comfortably buzzed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm?” Owen mumbled lazily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why were you so tense in the hospital? I was perfectly alright and you knew that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t particularly enjoy hospitals.” Owen said carefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” Curt pressed, rubbing at the tight muscles on the back of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen closed himself off, face turning to stone. “I’d rather not discuss it.” His hands reached out, one taking over rubbing his partners neck, the other clinging to his fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can tell me, O. You can tell me anything.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Owen cracked a small smile. “I’m a bit too sober and I’d rather not ruin the night, love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Curt pulled back, but began to thread Owens' silky hair through his fingers. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why Ted?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Curt stopped for a moment, bewildered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At the hospital.” Owen explained. “You called me Ted.” He wrinkled his nose. “Ted sounds like the sort of man with a moustache.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know, it just felt right.” Curt’s tone turned vaguely serious. “But please, never grow a moustache. You would still be hot, but a more, ehh, creepy hot, I think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe I’ll grow a moustache now, just to spite you.” Owen pondered, grinning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That would be almost as bad as your Russian accent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like yours is much better, love.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yes I just made up how hospitals work don’t @ me ok<br/>I crave validation so comments would be lovely</p></blockquote></div></div>
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